


the taste of you alone (of glass and bone)

by kimaracretak



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Devotion, F/F, Lingerie, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-13 00:59:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18458219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimaracretak/pseuds/kimaracretak
Summary: Oksana is experimenting with crying, lately. Anna is so pretty when she cries, there is maybe something about tears that she can use, if she ever needs - Anna has always been the best of teachers, the best of women, and if crying will make her happy, well, Oksana will give her as many tears as she would diamonds.[Anna, Oksana, a weekend alone]





	the taste of you alone (of glass and bone)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [summerdayghost](https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerdayghost/gifts).



> Your lips moving slow, _the taste_  
>  _of you alone, of glass and bone_  
>  an empty world, an empty hole  
> just you and me and us and we and  
> I, I, I, I, I.  
> fuck me.  
> fuck me.  
> — 'The Narcissus', Jordan Reyne

Okasana sees her coming home in a dream, first. It is deepest winter, and Anna is walking up the path to their home wrapped in scarlet, the heavy wool of her coat swaying more gently than the brisk wind as it brushes against the tops of her boots - the old ones that have seen too many years and have too little of their fur lining left. Oksana has bought a replacement pair, but they're still in hiding in the far back of her little closet, waiting for the day Anna is comfortable enough to build a home inside Oksana's chest instead of stupid old clothes that can't do their job.

Oksana is standing in the window, her naked body partially obscured by the drapery, her hand lazy between her open thighs as she watches Anna move forward, waits for Anna to look up. She is not worried about being seen by anyone else; the neighbours mind their own business and no one but Anna is smart enough to look up.

And look up she does, eyes sparkling in the pale sun, her cheeks flaming crimson to match her coat when Oksana meets her eyes and slides a deliberate finger inside her cunt. In the dream, Anna holds her gaze, still on the sidewalk, and watches Oksana fuck herself like they're the only two people in the world. When Anna watches like this she won't move, breath, speak unless Oksana lets her, and it's - Anna's - everything.

Oksana wakes up on Anna's couch, soaking through the black lace of her knickers, impatience burning through her blood. Max is away for the weekend, and Oksana skipped school to run all the errands necessary to make Anna's flat into their home for the weekend. They so rarely get the time to themselves, and the bags littering the floor - some of them even paid for, so they would be done up all pretty by the shopping assistants - have more jewelery and lingerie and toys than they could possibly enjoy in three days.

She is only now beginning to admit to herself that she's planning for a future, still contemplating hiding some of the bags for later, when she hears the familiar creak of Anna's key in her lock. Oksana bolts upright, fingers hesitating at the waistband of her leggings. Should she greet Anna at the door, or wait a moment to draw the surprise out a little longer?

The door opens with a soft brush against the carpet, but Anna doesn't walk in immediately - she pauses, perhaps she's noticed the scent of the mint tea Oksana had kept warm in the kitchen? Oksana decides to tease a little longer, lies down with her back to the door, make sure her shirt is pulled up enough to show the pale sliver of her back.

She listens to the noises of Anna coming closer - the scrape of her heels on the thin carpet, the brush of her hair against her neck, the thump as her purse hits the ground when she sees Oksana.

"Oksana," Anna breathes. "You - this - you shouldn't have. This is bad."

Oksana rolls over as best she can on the narrow couch, burying her cheek in a pillow and smiling sideways up at Anna. "Maybe bad like I need a spanking?"

Anna is loosening her hair, as she considers, so Oksana knows she isn't really mad. "I think we both know that's not a punishment for you, Oksana."

"Oh, please." Oksana sticks her lower lip out just far enough to make it tremble. "Please, Anna, I'll be so very sorry - I'll even cry and beg for you to stop, if you want."

Oksana is experimenting with crying, lately. Anna is so pretty when she cries, there is maybe something about tears that she can use, if she ever needs - Anna has always been the best of teachers, the best of women, and if crying will make her happy, well, Oksana will give her as many tears as she would diamonds.

Anna cried the first time she spanked her. Oksana wants to see if she'll do it again.

But Anna is quiet, long fingers busy combing out her curls and writing secret messages for Oksana as if they're back in the classroom - _blessai, blessasi_ , Oksana knows she missed more of the passé simple today, but it's all too much dwelling on things that are gone and unchanging. Waiting for Anna in their flat was much more important.

 _Je fis mal_ , Anna's fingers write in her hair, and - oh, a test, Oksana's good at those, knows the difference between Anna's aching feet and the weariness of teaching the simple babies that are all that's left of the class when Oksana's not there.

"Come here," she says, sitting up and softening her face as much as she can. She smiles Anna's favourite smile, lips a little more plump, teeth a little more visible. "I know. I know. It's been a very long day, I am sorry Anushka."

She holds out her arms, watches Anna's body melt into what she really wants. "There's tea in the kitchen," Oksana whispers as Anna's careful fingers work down the buttons of her coat. "But I think that is not really the solution to your day, hm?"

Anna's mouth opens - perhaps to scold Oksana for being in the kitchen without her, she is still not used to this being their flat, some weekends - but the words die as Oksana pulls her shirt and sweater off in one motion, leaving her bare chest exposed to Anna's gaze. "Good," Oksana says softly, her voice the only sound in the room apart from Anna's breath. "Take off your stockings. Come sit with me, I'll make it better."

Anna obeys, slowly, and Oksana watches hungrily as each centimetre of familiar skin is bared to her. Anna sits on her lap almost tentatively, after all this time, and keeps her skirt on. Her fear used to hurt Oksana, make her wonder if Anna, too, was ashamed of her, but then she discovered how much they both enjoyed it, how Anna was always wettest when she was whispering we shouldn't, how she herself came hardest when Anna was resisting - was pretending to resist - the most.

Oksana starts slowly, closing her lips carefully around Anna's nipple through her thin blouse. Her skin is cold to touch, and Anna sighs at the heat of Oksana's mouth, hands coming up to grip her shoulders. She would be content, she thinks, to stay here forever - warming Anna up, making her feel better, holding her close with her lips forming promises Max wouldn't be able to think of, let alone keep.

Anna whimpers softly, fingernails digging into Oksana's skin like she wants to leave a mark, and Oksana obligingly switches her attention to the other nipple, replacing her mouth on the first with her thumb. "This is what you wanted, hm?" she whispers, a secret just for Anna's skin.

Anna nods anyway, her hair spilling down her back as Oskana continues to suck at her nipple. Oksana trails her free hand up to stroke through the curls, rough and damp from the wind and the melting snow, rough and damp like Anna's cunt against her thigh.

It's one of Oksana's favourite things about her, how quickly Anna grows wet when she uses her mouth on her, even when it's just on her breasts, her neck, her lips - Anna's body knows what she wants, and Oksana lets that, rather than Anna's words guide her. She knows, even if she won't say it, that only Oksana understands. Only Oksana can give her this, which is why she grinds down Oksana's thigh, trails kisses over the top her of her bent head.

Anna's skirt bunches up around her waist as she rocks down, and Oksana relishes the rough scratch of the wool against her bare stomach, tightening the muscles in her thigh. Oksana pulls back, glances down, but she can barely see more than the shadow of Anna's pubic hair against her pale skin, all the rest obscured by her underwear - they are not nice enough to be panties, but Oksana will remedy that soon enough - and the damp stain she's leaving across Oksana's leggings.

But as beautiful as the sight is, it's not enough - Anna deserves far more and Oksana has an entire weekend to give her everything. "You're good?" she asks, and Anna nods again. One day - maybe even this weekend - Oksana thinks, she'll get Anna to speak more, but for now, Oksana listens to her body. She kisses her instead, long and just as soft as Anna deserves. She tastes like cinnamon, like the lipstick that Oksana bought her last month, and Oksana has never needed anything so much as she now needs her mouth to be filled with Anna.

"Hold on," she whispers, wrapping her arms firmly Anna and standing up just enough to turn them around and settle Anna on the couch where she had been. Anna's eyes are shining, her cheeks flushed, her legs spread and her body limp and waiting like every dream of her Oksana has ever had. "There," she says, pressing one last kiss to Anna's lips. "I'll take care of you. Just sit back."

Anna sighs in assent, and Oksana rewards her agreement by sinking to her knees in front of the couch and sliding her underwear off with careful hands. The worn cotton protests, but Oksana throws it aside carelessly - she has much better things waiting for Anna later. Maybe even the ones that she's wearing right now.

Anna's cunt is as beautiful as the rest of her, flushed a deep red underneath her curls. Other days, Oksana might tease, just to see how much Anna could beg, how long she would submit for, but today, Oksana doesn't feel like denying either of them.

She settles her hands on Anna's thighs and leans in, breathing in the scent of her, before she lets her tongue dart out, just a little teasing flick against Anna's clit. Anna's whole body shudders at the touch, and Oksana realises with a start just how close she is. Had she been thinking about her all day at the school? Had she slipped away to the faculty restrooms to touch herself, thinking about Oksana's empty seat, wishing she was there to watch?

No, Oksana thinks, licking her again, savouring the sweetbitter of Anna on her tongue. Anna doesn't like to touch herself, not even with Oksana there guiding her. It's one of the things Oksana's working on, along with the crying. Anna is always hers, but the sight of Anna - naked, head tipped back, three fingers in her own cunt and one hand at her breast - Oksana wants that kind of freedom for her.

Wants to lick away the tears of shame she's sure will follow, the first few times.

But for the moment, she has Anna entirely under her direction, and that - it's just as wonderful, just as overwhelming. She spreads Anna's legs even further, shifts slightly so she can press her heel against her own cunt. It's not enough, not nearly, but the way Anna's looking at her is all she needs.

"You're close, aren't you?" Oksana murmurs, flicking her eyes up to see Anna's face as she flattens her tongue against the length of her cunt, feeling every pulse of her heartbeat, every ridge and bump of her skin.

Anna nods, chest heaving. Every bit of her is shining, and Oksana can't believe she gets this all to herself, all week. "Good," she says. "Come on, Anna. Let me help you."

She leans down again, takes Anna's clit fully in her mouth, and smiles as she feels Anna let go, shivering into her mouth. Oksana licks her through it as gently as she can, guards her teeth and lets every spasm of Anna's cunt around her tongue echo dully in her own throat, tries to show like this what Anna doesn't like her to say with her words in any language.

Anna drops back against the couch with a sigh as Oksana carefully runs her fingers through the slick mess between her legs. There's nothing to be done for the cushions, but the knowledge that Anna's stained them because of _her_ is more than worth it. "I'm proud of you for trusting me," she says, so quietly that Anna could pretend for now that she hadn't heard. "For letting yourself be so pretty, for enjoying what you do to me."

Anna's hips buck into her mouth once more at that - sweet Anna, whose body still knows more than she does - and Oksana muffles her laugh by sucking a mark into Anna's thigh. She can't wait to see what else she can make Anna's body do.


End file.
